The Winterscapes

The Winterscapes - Chapter One

Draco sat alone in a closed compartment on the Hogwarts Express. He wasn't the only person in the compartment, but he felt that he was alone just the same. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle sat across from Draco, but they were both asleep. They'd stuffed themselves with pumpkin pasties and licorice wands, grown drowsy, and nodded off some time ago, leaving Draco to stare out the window at the rapidly passing trees and setting sun, and think. He lay across two seats, with his arms crossed in front of his chest and his back propped up against the wall that divided the compartment from the corridor. He wondered how much longer it would be until they reached Hogwarts. He was quite bored; Blaise had disappeared some time ago. Goyle snored, prompting Draco to sigh and roll his eyes in annoyance.

At least this was his last year at Hogwarts. At least or perhaps unfortunately, he hadn't quite decided. His last year, and then he would be a fully-trained wizard, expected to know everything he needed to know to survive in the Wizarding world, theoretically. But the Wizarding world was changing, for the better, in Draco's opinion. Young wizards would need to know quite a bit more than was taught at Hogwarts to survive. Of course, his father and mother had been teaching him other kinds of magic for years. The train sped on.

In a way it was almost sad, beginning one's seventh year, Draco reflected. It was the last year in which he wouldn't be expected to do anything, by his father or society in general. He could just be: go to class, study, play Quidditch, torment Gryffindors. Just be. It was his last year to live in a dormitory among his friends. Perhaps they weren't his friends, exactly, not in the sense that Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs had friends, but his housemates, and more specifically his dorm mates, had interests similar to his. They were allies, if nothing else, and they could be trusted and understood more than anyone else could be trusted and understood, more than members of other houses, naturally, and in some things even more than one's family. Particularly one's parents. Draco was drawn out of his reverie when Blaise slid open the compartment door, stepped into the compartment and tossed a box of Every Flavor Beans in his direction.

"Here, have some. I stole them off the cart. Better change into your robes. And polish your Head Boy badge, we're almost there," said Blaise.

"About time," mumbled Draco. "Oh--thanks for the sugar."

Blaise was one person he would miss seeing every day, Draco thought as he changed into his Hogwarts robes. Blaise was his favorite of all the seventh year Slytherins. Draco supposed that Blaise was his best friend. Blaise tended to be agreeable if he thought you deserved it, that is, if you were at least as smart or rich or good-looking as he was. Otherwise he was mean as sin, and in general he showed a stunning lack of inhibitions and did whatever he felt like doing. He was very accepting of the same behaviors in others, which is why Draco found him so enjoyable to be around. Everyone who was rich and cunning and pureblooded got on splendidly with Blaise.

Yes, it would be ... strange, not to see all the familiar faces every day. Even people that Draco did not care for: Potter, ever golden; Granger, the mudblood know-it-all; Weasley, who never did anything extraordinary. There were more--the Weasley girl, just as shabby and pathetic as her brother, and Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, who were obviously impressed by Draco, but still managed to annoy him. He would miss antagonizing them, baiting them; it had become a sport among his friends, just as it was among their parents in their schooldays. One got used to the way things always were. Other things that could be counted on: that some of his classes, like Potions and Arithmancy, would occasionally interest him; the attractiveness and sluttiness of some of the older Slytherin and Ravenclaw girls; the mindless cooperation of Crabbe and Goyle, who would do practically anything Draco, Blaise, or Ian told them to do. Draco laughed to himself. Come to think of it, Crabbe and Goyle even let Pansy boss them around. Yes, there were worse things than being at Hogwarts.

Crabbe and Goyle still did not wake up when a voice announced through the train that they would be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes. Blaise and Draco shook them awake on their way out of the compartment and into the throng of students in the corridor.

There were the noises of people pushing and shoving and chattering to their friends, and a few feet ahead of Draco, the high, unmistakable voice of Hermione Granger giving a lecture.

"No, no," she said exasperatedly. "You leave your trunk on the train, didn't you hear? You just concentrate on getting yourself to the school; your trunk will be brought to your dormitory for you. Just get off the train and look for Hagrid. He's the groundskeeper, and he's big, you can't miss--"

Draco pushed passed the younger students in front of him, until he stood right in front of Hermione, hands on her hips, and the poor first year receiving the talking-to.

"Granger. You just can't wait to start waving around that Head Girl badge, can you?" Draco drawled.

"Malfoy," she acknowledged him with distaste.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had stepped out of the compartment behind Hermione and stood next to her as soon as they heard Draco's voice in the corridor. Harry spoke up.

"Is there a problem, Malfoy?"

Draco laughed. "Potter. Playing the responsible grownup, I see. Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt your little girlfriend."

Ron seethed. "She's not--"

"Harry, Ron, come on," Hermione said, staring cautiously the whole time at Draco. "We oughtn't get in a fight before we've even made it to school."

By this time Blaise, Ian Baddock, and Pansy Parkinson were gathered round behind Draco. Ian and Pansy, also seventh year Slytherins, had turned up, rather disheveled looking, from the compartment next to Draco's. They were all three snickering at Hermione.

"That's right, Granger. You do need to set a good example for the little ones. It's the least you can do," Pansy said. "It's such a disgrace to the school ..." she trailed off.

"Did you just say what I think you said, Parkinson?" demanded Ron.

"Well, she's got a point, Weasley," said Draco, and he and his housemates pushed past the Golden Trio in a flurry of thrown out elbows and muttered "Mudblood."

Draco, Blaise, Pansy, and Ian boarded a stagecoach and talked idly and not unpleasantly about the summer: whose family had gone on holiday where, the parties that were thrown, and the ungodly amounts of homework they were assigned. They also spent a good deal of time complaining about the stench in the stagecoach, and why couldn't the school afford to have it cleaned? It was a discussion they had every year. When they reached Hogwarts they sat at the Slytherin table and talked with their other housemates in hushed tones. The Slytherin table was by far the quietest in the Great Hall, as usual. Everyone went silent when the two big wooden doors swung open, and in walked a long, single file line of first years, led by Professor McGonagall. They marched to the front of the hall, and the sorting began.

Draco dutifully clapped when a student was sorted into Slytherin, and did his best to ignore Dumbledore's inane speech when the sorting was over. The moment Dumbledore ended his speech, oversized platters of food appeared on the table, along with pitchers of pumpkin juice. Draco loaded his plate with lamb chops, Yorkshire pudding, and peas with mint. While he ate he listened to Millicent Bulstrode and Madelyn Greengrass discuss the advantages of Madelyn's older sister marrying Gabriel Warrington.

"Don't you have anything better to talk about?" asked Draco when he grew sick of hearing about possible locations for the wedding.

Millicent and Madelyn looked offended.

"For example, our timetables."

They brightened up a bit, probably because they thought Draco cared about what classes they were taking.

"Well," said Madelyn, "I've got Divination and Care of Magical Creatures on Monday morning, and Transfiguration after lunch."

"That's not what I meant," said Draco. "Have you noticed we have Potions, Defense, and Apparition lessons with the Gryffindors?"

"Well," Blaise pointed out from where he sat on the other side of Pansy, "We always have Potions with the Gryffindors."

"Do you think that's the new Defense professor?" asked Pansy, pointing at the large man sitting next to Professor Flitwick.

"Probably," said Draco.

It went on like that for some time before everyone was finally finished eating. Then Dumbledore led the school in singing the school song and dismissed the students to bed. Draco was very relieved to relax into his bed, and stretch and toss and turn. He let his thoughts run wild for hours before he finally fell asleep.